Lethal Profit by Alex Blackmore

towards her and holding out his hand. He had dark hair and dark eyes and he wore a pair of black jeans and a navy cargo sweater. Eva nodded at him. Was she supposed to shake his hand?
    â€˜You’re probably wondering where you are.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Eva realised her throat was painfully dry.
    â€˜You had a car accident – well, you ran out in front of my car – and you passed out.’
    Suddenly Eva remembered running across the road away from the stranger she had thought was following her. She recalled the pain of being clipped by the car – that explained the leg at least.
    But why was she not in hospital?
    â€˜Why am I…’
    â€˜I brought you here because you were injured.’
    â€˜I see. Well… thank you.’ She made a move to get up. ‘I should go…’
    â€˜Eva…’
    She stopped and stared straight at him. The hairs began to stand up on the back of her neck.
    â€˜You know my name.’
    He nodded. A silence descended on the room. The man looked at the floor. Eva tried to force herself to move but she seemed to be paralysed from the neck down.
    â€˜I knew your brother,’ he said suddenly. ‘Jackson.’
    Eva felt her blood drain southwards.
    â€˜You knew Jackson?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜How well did you know him?’
    â€˜We were close.’
    Eva had never heard Jackson mention someone called Leon.
    â€˜I can see you don’t believe me.’
    She said nothing in response. She was starting to feel very uncomfortable. What this man had done – bringing her to his flat – was not a normal thing to do. In fact, it was almost kidnapping.
    â€˜Wait… let me show you something…’ Leon started for the door.
    Instantly, Eva was on her feet. As Leon turned right out of the door, she silently followed him to the edge of the room. She looked carefully around the door-frame, just in time to see him disappear through a door at the end of the corridor. She heard the click of a key turning in a lock in the room Leon had entered. The corridor was shabby, with a dated but clean carpet and old, well-preserved light fittings. On the opposite wall there was a photo of a family standing in front of a farmhouse. Leading off the corridor were two other rooms and then to her left… bingo… a front door.
    A quick appraisal of the door revealed a Chubb lock system and a manual key below that. She glanced once more towards the kitchen and then began to tiptoe across the thin carpet, her heart hammering in her ears. She flicked up the notch on the Chubb mechanism and quickly turned the key in the lower lock. Both movements were soundless. She heard a cupboard door close again at the end of the corridor and quickly she twisted the Chubb handle and smoothly pulled open the door in front of her.

    Outside was an unexpectedly twee doormat with a picture of kissing bees and beyond that a dark and cavernous unfurnished hallway decorated with graffiti and, from the smell that hung in the air, urine. Eva pulled the door closed behind her and then started to run. She ran across the concrete landing and down a stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time. She had no idea where she was and no idea where she was going to go when she reached the end of the stairs, but she trusted her own instincts more than she trusted this person. She would find a road, there had to be a road somewhere, and she would flag someone down. But the stairs just kept coming.
    â€˜Eva!’
    Eva gasped out loud as she heard her name. ‘Shit,’ she muttered and tried to pick up her pace. She heard the ominous thundering of footsteps on the stairs above her and tried to remember how many flights she had put between the flat and where she was now. There had been at least four, surely he couldn’t catch her.
    â€˜Eva, wait! You don’t understand!’ Leon’s voice echoed down the stairwell.
    Suddenly Eva pulled up short – she was